


fly not far (from me)

by queenstalgems (13pens)



Category: Disney Fairies
Genre: F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5589355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13pens/pseuds/queenstalgems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vidia makes hawks out of hummingbirds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fly not far (from me)

**Author's Note:**

> "The [Fairy Dance](http://disneyfairies.wikia.com/wiki/Fairy_Dance) is during every full moon, the best place to be in Never Land is at the Fairy Circle in Pixie Hollow. Bathed in silver moonlight, the fairies gather in the Fairy Circle to dance the night away with their friends."
> 
> Desperate to write fic because there were so few, I scanned the DF wikia to see if I could find any fodder. The Fairy Dance page was basically begging me to make it super gay.
> 
> And so, here are approximately 5,000 words about Vidia going through the six stages of crush grief lmao.

There’s an imperceptible smirk behind Silvermist’s fingertips that tells Vidia she’s due for another one of Sil’s rounds. Vidia admits that she had underestimated the absent-minded and kind water fairy; for all that went over her head, Silvermist was like a bull’s eye for pixie hollow gossip.

 

“You look like you’ve heard something especially promising at the Babbling Brook,” Vidia comments as they sit leisurely on a sunflower, taking in the warm rays Iridessa had so beautifully splayed upon the meadows this morning. Silvermist looks like she can’t decide whether to speak or stay silent, which is usually not the case; Vidia is never so scandalized by Sil’s guilty pleasures and she takes a kind of satisfaction from knowing things but never telling.

 

It must be something  _ big _ this time. Silvermist is actually shaking with excitement. 

 

“Well go on, out with it,” Vidia presses again.

 

Silvermist retracts her hands from her mouth and wrings them, hunching forward. “Oh, I can’t, I can’t. It’d be wrong to tell  _ you _ ,” she concludes out loud.

 

Vidia arches an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

 

“Because, well,” Sil shrugs, “it might be  _ about _ you.”

 

Vidia huffs, waves her off. “Please, I’ve heard many things pass around Pixie Hollow about me and I’ve never once let them  _ bother _ me, if that’s what your concern is.” She pauses to consider. “Except for the ones questioning my obvious superior abilities of course, but fools believe what they believe––“

 

“Would it also be foolish to believe,” Sil interrupts, that shadow of a smirk now a full fledged grin. Her hands are clasped as if to implore Vidia. “That you have particularly… _ flittering feelings _ for a certain… _ Tinker _ ?”

 

_ That _ is different indeed, and Vidia nearly flings herself off the sunflower in an outburst. “Absolutely not!” she shouts, turning an impossible shade of red that perhaps rivals only Tinker Bell’s. 

 

Sil gasps, her eyes going excitably wide and her body leaning toward Vidia. “Really?!”

 

Realizing the error in her answer, she shakes her head furiously. “I meant! I absolutely do not! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go,  _ ugh _ , pollinate something––“

 

She begins to fly off, but Silvermist flits after her, grabbing Vidia’s hands to beseech her. “Oh, wait, Vidia. I didn’t tell you to make fun of you. I wanted to help you!”

 

Something coils disgustingly in Vidia’s stomach. “That’s not necessary,” she says firmly, freeing herself from Sil’s grasp. “I don’t have any,  _ feelings _ ––“ the last word is accompanied by a flurry of finger quotations––“for anyone, other than mild tolerance or disgust.”

 

That isn’t true, and of course Vidia and much more Silvermist knows that. Ugh, but the  _ gall _ of that accusation…

 

Silvermist puts her hands on her waist, and by the Queen even her wings display an expression of skepticism. “That’s not what other fairies think. Like Ro, and she’s very good at seeing these things, you know.”

 

“Rosetta, too?  _ Ugh _ .” Vidia groans and settles herself back onto a sunflower, arms crossed in displeasure. Perhaps everyone in her circle was passing around that nonsense. Perhaps Tinker Bell herself had started it, that little brat––

 

The more she thinks about it the less she wants to be upset and the more she wants to smile.

 

Disgusting.

 

Vidia sighs, and if she wanted it to it could have produced a miniature cyclone. “Alright,” she says, straightening her back. Silvermist rests her arms on the petals of the flower and looks up at Vidia inquisitively. 

 

“So  _ if _ these rumors and ridiculous speculations were to be true, how exactly would you,  _ help _ ––“ another show of finger quotations accompany her––“me.”

 

“Well, I was going to say that you should ask her to the Fairy Dance this full moon.”

 

Vidia scoffs, a bit too hard. “You all know I never attend.”

 

“It would impress Tink if you did this once.”

 

“A-ha,” Vidia interjects, snapping her middle and thumb into a finger gun, a little too powerfully, “That’s where I’ve got all you caught, because impressing Tinker Bell is one of the last things I’d ever want to do.”

 

Silvermist frowns, puts the crook of her index on her chin and looks down to the side. “You do have a point.” As easily as she had offered the suggestion, she relents. “Sorry for bothering you then, Vidia. I hope you’re not angry with me. I'd fly backwards if I could.”

 

Vidia stares at Silvermist for a moment, waiting if the sight of her invokes any of that anger, but there is none. Of course, Silvermist is one of their truest friends. And of course, indulgence in this unfortunate piece of gossip was with the intention of bringing happiness. 

 

She waves her off. “You like gossip and you can’t help yourself. I get it. It’s fine. But  _ please _ put those rumors to rest the next time you and Rosetta visit the Brook. Honestly, I’m offended.”

 

Silvermist gives her one of her brightest smiles. “You got it.”

 

* * *

  
  


Though what is truly offending,  _ truly _ , is how infectious the suggestion is. Vidia spends the rest of the day, the flight back home, and now the wait for the kettle, wondering how in Neverland could  _ anyone _ think that  _ she _ ––

 

Well. That was the problem, wasn’t it. Even Vidia, were she not Vidia but an observer, would think so. Of course, what else could explain the sudden shift from thistle pranks and condescension to literally almost  _ dying _ for Tinker Bell. Or the inevitable warmth she feels to have more than just herself to keep her company, how when Tinker Bell isn’t around it’s just a bit too quiet for her; how nice it was, though she had wanted her to  _ leave _ , to see that Tinker Bell had gone after her as Vidia was rolling her way to scientific oblivion. To see and know their indelible teamwork, now at this point wordless and synchronized. 

 

But those could easily just be the spoils of friendship. And friendship is nice, but unnecessary. Vidia can live without it. Vidia can live without Tink’s, and surely, if she decided never to speak to her again, nosy fairies and sparrowmen would think twice about what they assume. 

 

She’s considering it, briefly, but then she feels sad. She’d miss laughter not at the expense of others, believe it or not, and she recalls how good it feels whenever Tinker Bell says her name and it’s full of true excitement to see her, and even when it’s not, she likes it all the same, and she knows that because it didn’t really make a difference before if Vidia was pestering Tink––because it was easier––or was actually making an effort to be her friend––which, eventually, became no effort at all––she just,  _ liked _ it.

 

Vidia  _ likes  _ Tinker Bell.

 

UGH. Of  _ all _ the––

 

In the middle of tearing at her own hair, she realizes that the sirens going off in her head are the sounds of the kettle going off, that  _ had _ been going off. Vidia had been so caught up dissecting these thoughts that she had forgotten where she was and what she was doing, and by the time she attends to the kettle half the water is evaporated. 

 

“Urgh!” Vidia yells out loud, followed by a gratuitous mouthing of pixie obscenities as she uses what is left for her mint and berry tea. She feels like yelling the whole night through. And she could. It’s not like anyone else lived in or near the Sour Plum Tree anyway.

 

Then she hears a quick flutter outside and before she can remember or even register, a voice calls.

 

“Hello? Are you here, Vidia?”

 

Vidia nearly drops her kettle mid-pouring, and she’s stupid, stupid, stupid. She had asked Tinker Bell the day earlier to fix her door, hanging forlornly with its hinges broken and lost. 

 

(She had busted right open in an act of frustration. Reformed by friendship or no, Vidia is still Vidia.)

 

“Yeah,” she answers, giving up on the tea, as it wouldn’t do any calming any time soon. “Come in.”

 

Tinker Bell flitters in, smiling brightly, with a tools belt slung over her shoulder, and Vidia is mouthing frustrated profanity poor Tink has probably never heard of under her breath.

 

“Hey! Sorry to come in so late, Clank and Bobble had some trouble with the uh,” Tink has that familiar grin, like it’s a story she needs to tell later, “Ah, nevermind. Wow, your door’s really torn open.”

 

Tink inspects the opening of the house and Vidia breathes in respite. Looking Tink in the eye right now, after such an introspective drop of a bombshell, is the last thing she wants to do.

 

“It’s been bringing in a really unpleasant breeze,” Vidia says coolly, because what has she got but poise at this point. “Ironic for a wind fairy, I know.”

 

Tinker Bell laughs. Vidia smiles.

 

Then she frowns and screams on the inside.

 

Vidia turns back to her counters making a show of doing something with the kettle and mediocre cup of tea. “It’s alright if you’re too tired to fix it tonight, you can just––“ she turns back around at the sound of rustling and knocking, and Tink is already screwing in the final bolt to a fully functional door. “…Come back tomorrow.”

 

Tinker Bell smiles at her. “It’s really no problem,” she says. Then she stands proudly,  opens and shuts the door from the inside to test the integrity. “Look, good as new!”

 

Looking at her right now, Vidia can forget any screaming reservations. “Thanks, Tink,” she says, perhaps too softly.

 

Tink ignores it if she hears the difference. She looks out of Vidia’s window back to the Pixie Dust tree, hazy but glowing golden even in the distance. “You know, you live so far away, why don’t you come live closer to the Home Tree?”

 

Vidia freezes but Tink is already looking up at her ceilings, envisioning everything, her hands spread wide across the imaginary picture in front of her. “Clank and Bobble can help me build you a house, just like this, if you want it.”

 

Perhaps this is also what Vidia finds herself liking about Tink, her tireless effort to include Vidia in all that they do, all that they are. 

 

“Thanks for the offer,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning on the counters, smirking in that way she does. “But it’s not like distance is really a concern for me.”

 

“Oh,” Tink says, awoken from her dazed fantasies of––of what, Vidia being her neighbor. It’s actually very endearing, and Vidia is disgusted that it is so endearing. “Right. Well, I should be off now! See you later!”

 

Seeing Tinker Bell already halfway through the now fixed door is like having a sapped bandage torn off, so Vidia does something particularly stupid. 

 

“Um, wait, Tink,” she calls, and Tinker Bell looks too eager to not go so soon. “Do you, uh, want to stay for dinner? I’ve got a like a ridiculous amount of leftover baked peas that Ginger gave me and I don’t think I could have them all,” she inserts, as a hasty justification.

 

Somehow it amuses Tink. “You  _ would _ be friends with Ginger, wouldn’t you?”

 

It makes Vidia grin. “Okay, fine,” she says with feigned offense and a dismissive wave of the hand, “I’ll just,  _ retract _ my offer, then.” 

 

Tinker Bell laughs so fully her eyes close. Vidia could just die.

 

——

 

They sit in the center of Vidia’s small house, opposite each other and with their food resting on plates atop their crossed legs. Vidia had finally managed to make tea the right way. The light in the room casts an unpleasantly yellow tinge to everything, and she should really get that light changed, but Tinker Bell is telling her about the mishap with Clank and Bobble’s thing-a-ma-what’s-it with her mouth full and Vidia is half repulsed and half amused and so she doesn’t really mind the light tonight.

 

“Sounds like it was a charming experience,” Vidia says, sipping her tea. In truth she understands only half of what Tinker Bell has said, and maybe her fixation on Tink in the past was in part frustration that there was something that she didn’t understand. 

 

She did understand, once, briefly, during the whole Zarina fiasco. She was dismayed and appalled but once the mind of a tinker settled in her head it was––well, enlightening. 

 

Tinker Bell’s presence in Pixie Hollow, ever since she had arrived, has been continually enlightening.

 

Vidia frowns at the tea.

 

“Hey,” Tink says with some concern, and Vidia inwardly curses at herself. “Is anything the matter? You looked kind of weird just now.”

 

“Pfft, no,” Vidia says dismissively. “Just tired I guess.”

 

“Oh. Okay.”

 

Tinker Bell begins to get up, begins to say that she should probably go if Vidia wants to go to bed soon, so again, she does something ridiculous and impulsive.

 

“Well there is this one thing,” she says, head ducking low, and oh, by the second star, she’s so far gone.

 

Tink’s ears immediately perk up, and she’s leaning forward to listen. Vidia thinks briefly what were to happen if she leaned in just as far and kissed her, and furiously waves it away.

 

“You have to promise not to tell anyone,” Vidia says, and then adds with a pointed finger, “Especially Silvermist, you  _ know _ she can’t help herself with gossip.”

 

“She does?” Tinker Bell says with slight surprise, and Vidia immediately knows it’s not her whom Sil goes to after time at the Brook. Tink shakes her head. “Nevermind. Yes. I promise.” She says it with such a determination that Vidia would, under normal circumstances, laugh.

 

“So, I’m… considering,” she says carefully, fingertips pressed together, “that  _ even though _ I usually don’t bother attending the Fairy Dances, I should go this one time.”

 

Tinker Bell’s entire being practically  _ lights up _ . “Really? I’ve never seen you there once! Oh, and it’s just in a week! This is so exciting!” Vidia is smiling at this display until Tinker Bell asks a rather painful question. “What made you decide to go?”

 

And look, it’s not like Vidia could just say “because I’d like to go with  _ you _ ,” she’s died enough inside for one millennia, so––

 

“Let’s say I wanted to um,” she proceeds, “Impress somebody. Somebody I’m rather…fond…of…”

 

Vidia’s eyes are dashing from side to side in nervousness, wringing her hands as Sil had done just that morning. 

 

“Oh.” She doesn’t see Tinker Bell’s expression. But by the time she looks at her in the face it’s just all well-meaning curiosity.

 

“Well,” Vidia continues, “How do you think I would do that?”

 

Tink puts her hand on her chin and her wings flap lightly behind her as she thinks. “Hmm. Well, I don’t know about this  _ somebody _ you’re talking about,” she teases, and Vidia wants to die again, “But I always love the dresses the sewing-talents wear –– how their skirts flow out when they spin –– and oh, the flowers in their hair!” There’s a twinkle in her eye and it’s easy to tell that the wonder of anything never fades with Tinker Bell. 

 

“But I mean, it’s not like a contest or a pageant,” Tink says, coming out of her trance. “You dance and have fun. I’m sure your somebody will be plenty impressed by you coming out at all.”

 

Vidia can see the question of  _ who! who is it! _ resting on Tink’s lips but she doesn’t ask. She wants to know why. “Right, okay,” she nods instead, taking what Tink has said to heart and making a mental note.

 

She feels the tip of an elbow reach over and poke her arm. “You know I’m almost jealous that you’ll be going to the dance for someone else besides us,” Tink says, mischief etched all over her.

 

“For all you know I’m going for Rosetta,” Vidia jokes, which is truly a joke because Rosetta is probably the straightest of them all.

 

Tink chuckles at that. “Well, I should be going now. Thanks for dinner! And let me know if the door gives you any trouble.”

 

“Yeah,” Vidia says, and stands by the doorway until she can no longer see the trail of pixie dust against the dark woods.

 

That night Vidia goes to sleep with her head under the pillow.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The next morning she thinks maybe she has made a hawk out of a hummingbird. She had blown the whole thing out of proportion. Soon Tinker Bell would forget everything she had said and Vidia would spend the Full Moon staring at it instead of dancing, instead of thinking of Tinker Bell.

 

Come three days, and she is still very much thinking of Tinker Bell.

 

And then it stresses her out because this isn’t really different. In whichever way, Vidia has always thought of Tinker Bell.

 

And right now she thinks about how much it might disappoint her if Vidia actually doesn’t go. And, on the other hand, how happy she would be if she did. How much more delighted if she knew that the somebody Vidia was talking about, was her, her best friend. Vidia smiles, feels warm.

 

At this point, what is the harm in following through?

 

In the afternoon, Vidia finds Rosetta tending to some flowers by the pond, where Silvermist is playing with tadpoles. 

 

“Hey there, darlin’!” Rosetta says, waving at Vidia. Silvermist does the same, and then frowns when she sees the distress hidden under Vidia’s nervous smile.

 

“What’s the matter?” she asks.

 

Vidia flies down until she lands on the banks. Her hands are clasped together. “I need to ask you two for a favor.”

 

* * *

  
  


Rosetta brings Vidia to Tack’s, a sewing fairy who, upon seeing his client-to-be, is ecstatic. “Oh, Vidia. I’ve been waiting to design something for you for  _ ages _ .”

 

He takes Vidia’s measurements, and the four of them collaborate on a design that both suits Vidia’s style and Tack’s taste. Throughout, Silvermist and Rosetta don’t say a cruel word to Vidia about Tinker Bell, even when this is confirmation enough, and Vidia, nervous, and still slightly grouchy about the entire thing, but mostly nervous, is thankful. The final dress, after drafts and drafts, fittings and revisions, is produced after a day and a half. 

 

Tack leaves Vidia and Rosetta in the room after applauding himself, and praising Vidia for the pleasure she had provided him. Vidia stands in front of the mirror (a large shard that Tinkerbell had found and made dull at the edges with hardened sap, no less), and stares.

 

The dress is made from white and purple tulip, short petals around the front and the longer ones at the back, like a dove tail. The top is a simple deep purple and swoops where her wings are for their comfort, connected to the skirt with a sash made from a single blade of grass. And of course, the flowers in her hair. White and purple petals folded and fashioned into smaller rose-like flowers are tucked neatly around her hair band.

 

“Oh, Vidia,” Rosetta breathes, holding her cheek in admiration, “You look absolutely stunning.”

 

Vidia just stares at herself, plays with her fingers. “You think so?”

 

Rosetta hovers behind her and places her hands on Vidia’s shoulders. “Mhm.”

 

She smiles awkwardly, still fidgeting with her fingertips. “Would Tink think so?”

 

Perhaps it had been a foolish question. Rosetta looks at her with one of her dreamy, gooey expressions, but somehow it’s laced with a kind of pity. “Oh, sweetheart. You’ve got it so bad.”

 

Vidia frowns, eyes fixated on an arbitrary spot of the reflection. “You’re making fun of me.”

 

“No, I’m simply observing.”

 

She laughs at that. “I feel stupid,” Vidia says, and perhaps Rosetta is concerned about how small and quiet she sounds.

 

“Whatever for?” Rosetta says, meeting Vidia’s eyes through the mirror. “You’re very mild in comparison to what I’ve done in the past.” She laughs at her own private memories. She begins to adjust the flowers in Vidia’s hair. “Besides, honey. Don’t you know everyone is at least a little in love with Tinker Bell? It’s definitely not a fault of yours if you are.”

 

“Great,” Vidia scoffs. “So I’m unoriginal, too.”

 

* * *

  
  


The evening of the full moon, Vidia has Rosetta and Silvermist help her with the dress in Rosetta’s part of the Home Tree (and is this what it would be like to live here? Friends easily at hand when you’ve gone and fallen in love with your best friend and had a designer dress to show it?), and in turn helps the two of them with whatever they need. 

 

She’s a little uncomfortable with how much simpler their wear is, and in turn how much she’ll stick out. Which is ridiculous, because Vidia usually loves the spotlight. She loves being the best. 

 

Would Tink like her best?

 

“Oh don’t worry about it,” Silvermist says when she voices her anxiety about the over-extravagance. “This is your first time in how long? You deserve to shine tonight.”

 

“And oh, how lovely you and Tinker Bell will look when you two dance!” Rosetta says, enamored with the mere image.

 

But Vidia freezes. “Dancing with Tink,” she says.

 

“Well of course,” Rosetta says, turning to her and frowning mid-application of raspberries to her lips.  “It’s a  _ dance, _ sweetie.”

 

All this while Vidia had just been concentrating on merely  _ showing up _ . She had forgotten to think about what came afterward.

 

“Right,” Vidia says. “Duh.”

 

——

 

The dance begins at the second nautical twilight, and the moon hovers just so, not quite overhead yet. In the middle of the Fairy Circle, illuminated with glowworms hanging like ribbons and fireflies swirling elegantly around, Silvermist and other water-talents take turns to manage the fountain, crystalline droplets organized beautifully in midair like glass lanterns. Iridessa brings the moonlight upon mirrors that the tinkers had installed around the circle, a technique borrowed from their showcase just a few months before. The fig and honeycomb cakes fill the air with a wonderful aroma, and the music fairies, ecstatic about the repertoire they had arranged, tune up their flutes and lyres on the side.

 

(“I heard they’ve learned some songs from the Mainland,” Fawn whispers to them, “I’m so freaking pumped.”)

 

But looking at everything and everyone, how the fairies and sparrowmen flitter together seamlessly, how the music is ornamented with laughter, Vidia feels like she does not belong. And Tinker Bell has not even arrived yet.

 

She sits on a mushroom on the edge of the Fairy Circle and watches everyone dance as she sips from some kind of fizzy drink that Rosetta had given her. After a song ends, it’s Iridessa that flies down beside her, smiling in the afterwaves.

 

“Why aren’t you up there?” she asks “It’s seems like a waste to look so nice and just sit still.”

 

“I don’t feel very good,” Vidia admits. Iridessa is starting to show real concern, but Vidia gestures her away. “I’ll be okay, don’t let me ruin your night or anything, Des.”

 

“Okay,” she says with skepticism, and the trickles of the next song inevitably pull her back up to join the rest.

 

Some idle, listless waiting later, it’s in the middle of a rendition of the classic “Fly Not Far From Me” that Tinker Bell, late as ever, flitters into the circle, immediately taking hands with Silvermist and joining herself into the dance without any hiccup in movement.

 

Something in Vidia’s stomach aches, perhaps from the fizzy drink, and in between her lungs there’s something thrumming powerfully and suddenly she can’t bring herself to wait for the moment Tinker Bell sees her. She watches her dance from fairy to fairy to sparrowman and suddenly she thinks of what Rosetta had said, how everyone is at least a little in love with Tinker Bell and she thinks then what right does she have to be here, to take Tinker Bell’s time and space and they’re such foolish thoughts, such  _ wrong _ thoughts but they’re enough. They’re enough to have her turn around, and fly away.

 

——

 

She always liked looking at the moon better, anyway. Perched delicately on the highest leaf of the Pixie Dust Tree with the flowers from her hair tucked into her hands, she observes the moon’s sluggish movement across the black sky. The music from the Fairy Circle is still slightly audible, but Vidia tries to drown it away.

 

It would be less painful, she thinks, if she weren’t so filled to the brim with such vulnerable  _ pride _ .

 

“I wonder if there are any fairies on the moon,” a voice says, startling Vidia enough that she nearly falls.

 

She turns around and sees Tink hovering beside her. “Tinker Bell?”

 

“I mean there has to be, right?” she goes on. “I bet you there are fairies that paint it white for the full moon, and then a little bit of black every night after until you get the new moon.”

 

“You’re not going to try and go to the moon now, are you?” Vidia says, and she feels calmer than she did, even if Tinker Bell is now settling herself beside her.

 

“I could find a way.”

 

Vidia hums, and Tinker Bell gives her a sympathetic smile. “Silvermist told me that you had a dress made and everything. She and Rosetta were pretty distraught that you had flown off so soon.”

 

Vidia stares at her, then she looks down at her lap, relaxes her shoulders. “This is humiliating,” she says, almost laughing.

 

“What is?”

 

“All of it. I don’t know what I was thinking trying to go to a  _ Fairy Dance _ . And to do what?” Vidia scoffs as an answer to her own question.

 

“Aw, come on,” Tink says, nudging her lightly. “I’m sure whoever you’re coming to the dance for likes you, too.”

 

“Whoever I’m…” The gears move slowly and then click in Vidia’s mind, and she laughs sardonically, shaking her head. “This  _ is _ humiliating. It’s  _ you,  _ Tink.”

 

That seems to take her by surprise. Under the bluish moonlight Tink’s ears are going purple. “M…..Me?”

 

“Yeah,  _ you, _ ” Vidia says it like a jab, and it’s much easier to admit if it sounds like a complaint. “But I’m not sure  _ why _ , since all you seem to do is cause me trouble and stress me out.”

 

“But, but,” Tink stutters, suddenly mindful of how close she is to Vidia. “ _ Me _ ?”

 

She breaks out into a nervous laughter that turns suddenly gleeful, and she risks shaking the leaf and turning them over. “Wow, I. Wow. I didn’t see this coming.”

 

“Practically all of Pixie Hollow did, apparently,” Vidia mutters with embarrassment. Then she looks at Tinker Bell properly for the first time, and. Well. “You look very nice.” She recognizes the design. Tack.

 

“Oh?” Tink says, blushing. “Oh! Thanks. I got so excited about you going this time around I thought I could put in a little more effort.” She looks shy as she moves her eyes around Vidia’s dress, her hair, as if looking at her is a bit too invasive. “You look really nice, too.”

 

Vidia blinks, and then laughs. The whole time Tinker Bell hadn’t pieced it together, and was excited anyway. “We are both very stupid for very bright fairies.”

 

“You think I’m bright?” Tink smiles. Her wings flap playfully as if they were batting eyelashes.

 

“No,” she answers with feigned firmness, “only because if I say yes I might throw up.”

 

“Ah, so you’ll gussy up and come out to a dance for me but not compliment me, I see,” Tink says, and Vidia grins. Tink rises and floats upward, pulling at Vidia’s hands. “Let’s dance.”

 

“I don’t think so,” Vidia says.

 

“And why not?”

 

Her cheeks are reddening in shame but her face is still pressed into a smile she can’t help. “I can’t dance,” she laughs.

 

“No way,” Tink gasps incredulously. “Is  _ that _ why you’d never go?”

 

“You know me. I’d tear a wing before I did something I wasn’t good at in front of everyone.”

 

“Well, we can dance here? I can show you, and I won’t make fun of you, I promise!” 

 

The music is faint as ever, and it is probably impossible to establish a beat with such muffled sound but Vidia, whose hands Tinker Bell is still holding softly, the outline of her body silhouetted by moonlight, flutters her wings and brings herself upward with Tink.

 

“Midair stuff is pretty tricky,” Tink explains, looking at their hands and feet instead of Vidia’s eyes, practically buzzing with a combination of disbelief and excitement, “So it’s all about tension, pushing and pulling. You know?”

 

Vidia is just looking at her eyes, and maybe she’s enjoying the how flustered Tinker Bell is at the moment. “Mhm.”

 

They spin around hand in hand at first, steadying themselves into synchronization. Then Tinker Bell pushes outward, and tugs for Vidia to turn under Tink’s arm. Except that she doesn’t raise it high enough, so the inside of her elbow collides with Vidia’s ponytail, and gets a faceful of her wings.

 

“That went well,” Vidia says.

 

“Hush.”

 

They try again until there are no collisions, and even when there are, their only outcome is eye-closing laughter, re-grasping of hands, fingers tangling. Vidia stops being any kind of afraid that she was for the past week, Tinker Bell stops trembling and lets her energy out on the dance, now in bigger sweeping movements, twirls and turns that Vidia can just fall into, and at some point, a dip.

 

(Vidia will likely never admit that that one might’ve stopped her heart. Why? It’s disgusting. How cliché could things  _ get _ .)

 

Tink holds on to Vidia’s hands like she’s hanging, like she might fall.

 

“Are you having fun?” Tinker Bell asks, suddenly mindful, speckled with guilt.

 

And honestly, what a ridiculous question. Vidia answers her by flying up to kiss her.

 

Tink freezes for a second until she closes her eyes, their fingers tangled together between them and it’s so quiet at that moment that they can hear the music clearly now. A song from the Mainland, and Fawn, ever in the distance, yells enthusiastically along,  _ wheeeen the moon hits your eye like a big pizza-pie, that’s amooore! _

 

Vidia bursts into laughter, turning her head away to avoid practically spitting into Tinker Bell’s mouth. “What in the world is a  _ peetsa. _ ”

 

“I think it’s a kind of cheese,” Tink giggles, gaze still fixed on Vidia’s lips. 

 

Vidia thinks to herself, what was the point of Tack if the dresses weren’t going to matter, that they’d look at only each other just the same.

 

“So,” she says. “About the house you want to build me.”

  
  


_ end _

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. According to the disney fairies wikia, Silvermist is one of Vidia’s best fairy friends besides Tink, and that Silvermist secretly loves gossip. I have no idea how accurate that trivia is but it was too good to pass up. 
> 
> 2\. "I'd fly backwards if I could" as fairy lingo for "sorry" is so _adorable_
> 
> 3\. Ginger is basically the Vidia of the Cooking Talents.
> 
> 4\. “[Fly Not Far From Me](http://disneyfairies.wikia.com/wiki/Songs_the_Music-talents_perform)”, from which the title is derived, is the cutest fairy love song I have ever read??? Someone please compose it. I need it in my ears.
> 
> 5\. I have no idea what fairy choreography looks like so I just assume it’s aerial swing dancing. Plus trying to brain a whole fairy line dance thing would probably be unproductive.
> 
> (Look at me, citing the freaking disney fairies wikia for a _disney fairies_ fic. How Vidia feels about being butt-deep in love with Tink is how I felt writing this tbh.)


End file.
